That Was His Favorite Answer, Too
by kci47
Summary: Benson and Amaro are on a case when an unexpected guest nearly ruins everything. Olivia has to straighten him out. M for language and violence against a cocky former partner.


Olivia checked her wire for the hundredth time in two minutes as she waited for Nick to signal that she should enter the bar. They were both undercover tonight, hoping that Olivia would attract the attention of a wealthy bar patron who they suspected had raped and murdered over a dozen women. She'd been into this particular bar on two previous nights, but their suspect hadn't shown his face.

Tonight, though, she was certain things would be different.

Eying her pathetic excuse for a dress, Olivia's heart sped up when Nick's voice filtered through their audio system, giving her the signal to go.

"Alright, Liv, you're on. Flirt with Amaro and whoever else you need to, don't drink too much, and use your code word for backup as soon as Rafe takes you upstairs, got it?" Cragen rattled off the instructions yet again as Olivia nodded.

"Don't worry, Captain," she assured him. Moving to the side of the van, she opened the door to get out—and couldn't. Not without her already extremely-short dress riding up to indecent levels. "Um, everyone mind looking away for a minute?" she asked, frustrated and embarrassed. The other detectives and CSU all turned their heads, and Olivia tumbled ungracefully out of the van onto the sidewalk. Slamming the door shut with more force than necessary, she wondered how on earth she was supposed to maneuver in this thing.

Tip-tapping her way to the front door of the bar in her ridiculous heels, she did her best to tug the hemline down a little. Unfortunately that only resulted in the neckline moving lower, as well, and Olivia cursed under her breath. Her outfit had seemed so innocuous hanging on the rack at the precinct, but once she'd put it on, she'd discovered it was skintight and as revealing as could be. She'd been in costume before, of course, but this one just seemed so much more...attention-grabbing. She snorted softly when she realized that she was more uncomfortable dressing like a hooker than she was interviewing traumatized hookers, and how backwards was that?

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Olivia pulled open the door to Finnegan's. She needed to look this way to lure Rafe, and that was that. He had a track record of singling out the flashiest, most expensive looking girls, so that's what she was tonight. Stepping inside, she waited for her eyes to adjust before moving to the bar and selecting a stool. It took a moment of concentration to actually get up on the stool without looking like an uncoordinated drunkard, but she managed it. Relaxing slightly, she let her eyes roam as she waited for the bartender. She spotted Nick coming towards her—and then she saw _him_.

Elliot.

_What the hell is he doing here? _Her fists clenched involuntarily as she watched him down a glass of what appeared to be whiskey. He didn't look good—dark circles ringed his eyes and she couldn't recall ever seeing him in such a mangy t-shirt. The bartender put another glass in front of him and he downed that one, too. So far he seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, and she fervently hoped he stayed that way. His presence could seriously complicate things.

As Nick sidled up to her and asked her what she was drinking, she saw Elliot's head swivel. _Shit_. Their eyes connected and Elliot's widened in surprise. As he took in her outfit and Nick touching her shoulder, however, the blue eyes narrowed and he clacked his glass down on the countertop. Olivia tried to convey the message to him that she was undercover, but she didn't know if he was sober enough to pick up on it. Back when they were partners, they'd been so attuned to one another that a warning glance wouldn't even have been necessary, but now, she just wasn't sure.

Sensing trouble, Nick leaned in under the pretense of smelling her hair. "Problem?"

Olivia turned her head slightly toward his to answer. "That's Stabler."

Nick glanced down the bar and frowned. "Is he going to cause trouble?"

Sighing, she said, "I hope not, but honestly—probably."

Leaning away and smiling down at her, Nick asked what a classy lady like herself was doing in such a shady place. Olivia bantered with him for a few moments while taking sips of her drink. Thankfully Nick had bought her a rum and Coke—minus the rum. When Nick tensed, Olivia discreetly glanced into the mirror behind the bar. It seemed that Rafe had just deigned to enter the main room, and Olivia straightened her back to better display her cleavage. She laughed at something Nick had presumably said, flipping a lock of hair off her shoulder as she did so. He played right along, chuckling and placing a hand on her leg.

Just then, another hand reached over and unceremoniously pushed Nick's away. Knowing immediately who had come to cause trouble, she shifted on her stool and faced Elliot.

"Hi there, can I help you?" she asked in a sharply sweet tone that indicated she wanted nothing less than to help him in any way.

"You can tell me what you're drinking," he answered, slurring his words slightly. Nick and Elliot glared at one another over Olivia's head and she sighed.

"I'm good right now, thanks anyway, sugar," she said. She waited for Elliot to slink off, but he didn't.

Nick moved closer to Olivia and put his arm around her shoulders. "Yeah, we're fine. You should head back to your seat."

Elliot just frowned and moved closer to her, too. "The lady doesn't _look_ fine—"

Olivia placed a pleading hand on his arm and willed him to just go away. He could blow their whole cover if he persisted.

Suddenly, a new voice entered their little circle. "Is this man bothering you, sweetheart?"

Olivia turned to look at the newcomer: Rafe, their target. It seemed that one ham-fisted former detective was more enticement than the weeks of groundwork she'd put in thus far. Refraining from gritting her teeth, Olivia instead smiled gratefully at Rafe. "Actually, yes," she purred, darting a quick glance at Elliot. He was still furious but judging by his expression he was also surprised she'd turned him over to the mercies of Rafe and his crew.

Signaling two burly men from the other end of the bar, Rafe eyed Elliot distastefully. "Maybe next time you won't be so pushy," he growled as his men lifted Elliot by the elbows and carried him towards the door. Olivia silently hoped they merely dumped him on the sidewalk and nothing more serious.

"You alright, honey?" Rafe leaned one arm on the counter and moved his face closer to hers.

"Much better now, thank you," she replied. "I prefer my companions to be a little more…well-kept." She licked her lips as she eyed Rafe, hoping she wasn't overdoing it. When a predatory smile lit his face, she knew she'd finally caught him.

"Care to come up to the VIP area with me?" Rafe asked, flicking a glance behind her to Nick.

Olivia didn't even look back at her partner, but simply slid the drink he'd bought her back towards him as she uncrossed her legs and straightened. "I'd love to," she assured him as she let him help her down from the stool. She knew as soon as they were out of sight, Nick would alert the others and head upstairs to cover her. Following their suspect through the crowd, Olivia did her best to put Elliot and the emotions he stirred up out of her mind.

* * *

Several hours later, Rafe was headed downtown in a squad car and Olivia was finally able to return to the precinct. She was mentally and physically exhausted, same as she was after every big bust. But this time she was also roiling with some pent-up emotion that she couldn't—or wouldn't—put a label on. All she knew definitively was that she was mad as hell at Elliot Stabler.

Striding off the elevator, she headed straight for Captain Cragen's office, ignoring her partner as he stood and called her name. Cragen met her at the door.

"Where is he?" she asked without preamble.

"Holding cell," he answered her, gesturing for her to lead the way. "We were hoping he'd be sobered up by now, but…well, he's not quite there yet."

They made a peculiar procession as they headed down to the cells: one detective practically vibrating with anger; one detective following at a safe distance, curious but cautious; and one weary and bemused captain. The entire journey was made in silence, with nothing but the slap of their shoes on the floor marking their progress. Once they arrived, Cragen pointed at the room containing their erstwhile companion. He held out a hand and stopped Amaro when the young detective made to follow his partner in.

"You don't want to be in there for this," was Cragen's cryptic warning.

Olivia swept into the room without a backward glance, the door thudding shut ominously behind her. Immediately Cragen flipped the switch on the intercom and the two men moved as one to stand behind the window.

"I don't mind supervising if you have something else—"

"No. I'll stay in case Benson needs help." Nick glared at Olivia's former partner as Elliot looked up at Olivia inside the cell.

Cragen nodded once. "I'm staying in case Elliot needs help," he muttered.

* * *

Olivia wished, not for the first time, that the doors to the cells weren't so heavy. The dull 'thud' wasn't nearly as satisfying as a loud slam, but it would have to do. Staring down at Elliot, she repressed the urge to talk first. She knew he would cut to the chase if she let him be, so she crossed her arms and leant against the wall. She was rewarded after only a few seconds when Elliot scowled at her and stood shakily.

"What the hell was going on back there?" her former partner bit out.

"I was working a case, as you well know," Olivia retorted. Silence reigned for a moment while Elliot clearly tried to think of another line of attack. He was swaying slightly, though, and Olivia wondered just how much he'd had to drink before they'd shown up.

"Working a case, huh? More like working a high-end hooker job." Elliot raked his eyes over her dress and his scowl grew deeper.

"Yes, because I enjoy sleeping with creeps for money." Olivia uncrossed her arms and straightened. "Why are you acting like this? You and I have worked similar cases a hundred times before."

"You never dressed like that for _me_," Elliot growled.

Now he was really pushing her buttons. With her temper rising, she tried her best to keep her voice even as she replied, "I'm not dressed like this for Nick. I'm dressed like this for _Rafe_, our perp, and because it's my _job_—in case you've forgotten." Unfortunately she couldn't keep the bitterness out of her tone as she subtly reminded him that _he'd _left _her_.

"Oh, I see. I leave the force and suddenly I'm an idiot, is that it?" Elliot tried to take a step forward but he stumbled and had to catch himself with a hand on the wall.

Olivia exhaled sharply and took her time examining Elliot. It was clear that he was unhappy with his decision to leave, at least if the anger and drunkenness were any indication. She felt herself softening towards him just a tad and decided to change tack. "What happened to your eye?"

Elliot snorted and brought a hand to the area in question. "Courtesy of your new partner." His emphasis on the word _partner _made it obvious that he did not approve of Detective Amaro.

* * *

In the hallway, Cragen slanted a glance at the younger detective. "You punched him?"

"He tripped while we were heading down to the pen," Nick replied casually.

Cragen eyed him for a moment before answering. "And let me guess—he fell on your fist?"

Nick shrugged unrepentantly but didn't respond. Eventually Cragen returned his attention to the two people in the holding cell. "That used to be Elliot's favorite answer, too."

* * *

"You probably deserved it," Olivia offered sweetly, cocking her head and smiling at Elliot.

"So that's how it's going to be now? You on his side, even against me?" He was snapping at her like a wounded animal, and Olivia had to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

"Nick's a good cop, and a good man. And _you_ left, so now he's my new partner. That's all." Olivia narrowed her eyes at Elliot as he gingerly tried to move forward again.

"What the hell, Liv. You _replaced_ me."

"You _left_, Elliot. Without a word to me, if you'll recall." The fake smile was gone from her face now and Olivia took two steps toward Elliot, suddenly feeling the urge to hit him herself. "I didn't have a choice, did I? And Nick's good at what he does, so you can just stop being such a—"

"Good at what he does, huh? I just bet he is. Do you let him touch you, Liv,? Do you pretend to want him like you used to pretend to want me? Do you think about him when you—ow!"

Elliot's howl of pain was followed by a thump as he was thrown backwards against the wall. Olivia shook out her fist and ruefully thought that she probably shouldn't have blackened Elliot's good eye. Still, he'd been purposefully insulting, and she was so far beyond mere anger now that she wasn't sure she could control herself if the urge arose again. Apparently she was still far more upset about his abrupt departure than she'd realized.

"Real nice, _Detective Benson_. You know, assaulting private citizens is a punishable offense—"

"You'd know, wouldn't you, _Detective Stabler_? You crossed the line enough times in your illustrious career—"

"Yeah, well, it worked didn't it? You didn't seem to have any complaints back then—"

"Don't put this off on me, Elliot! You're the one who—"

"Let me guess—your new partner doesn't rough anybody up, does he? Wouldn't want to risk that pretty face of his. Or maybe he's just not man enou—oof!"

Olivia slammed Elliot into the concrete wall, twisting his arm up behind his back to subdue him. "I've had enough of this, Elliot. If you don't have anything to say to me besides questioning my abilities and my new partner, then we're done here."

Elliot was panting as he struggled against her, but months of excessive drinking and without regular exercise had left him weaker than usual. When he started cursing, Olivia just dragged his arm higher until he was quiet.

"You know, I was hoping to see you again, to get some closure. But not like this. Never like this," Olivia murmured. Elliot was quiet, and Olivia was about to drop his arm and go when he found his voice.

"This is so fucking hot, Liv," he breathed against the wall. "We should've done this while we were partners—do you have your handcuffs hidden under that dress somewhere?"

"Shut up, Stabler." Olivia felt her cheeks flush as she tightened her grasp on Elliot's arm, perversely enjoying his gasp of pain as she did so.

* * *

"Should we put a stop to this?" Nick asked Captain Cragen as Olivia ratcheted Elliot's arm up even further.

Cragen looked undecided. "Let's give them a few more minutes. They were partners for fifteen years and Stabler resigned without saying a word to her. I'd think less of her if she _wasn't_ pissed."

Nick nodded and they listened as Elliot made a suggestive comment about Olivia giving him an erection. Without warning, Olivia spun him around and pinned his shoulders to the wall.

"That so, El?" she purred, all traces of anger gone. Nick shifted uncomfortably, hoping the two former partners weren't about to have some kind of romantic reunion. Then, quicker than the blink of an eye, Olivia's smile dropped and she kneed Elliot in the groin. Hard.

Cragen and Nick both winced. Now Olivia was lecturing Elliot about common decency and respect while Elliot lay crumpled in a ball on the floor.

"I think we've seen enough," Cragen announced, flipping off the intercom and turning to leave.

"Right behind you," Nick muttered. They headed back up to the office area, seemingly in silent agreement to pretend they hadn't witnessed anything. Nick still felt pulsing sympathy pains for poor Stabler, although it wasn't quite enough to make him regret giving him the black eye earlier.

* * *

"...you don't have _any idea _how long we've been working that case. One wrong move and we could have erased _everything_! You nearly ruined it all!" Olivia paced back and forth in front of the still-prone Elliot, ranting as all her anger seeped to the forefront.

Finally Elliot cracked one eye open to look at her. One very _angry _eye. "Oh, I don't have any idea, do I? I've never spent weeks trying to track down some sick pervert, have I? I've never watched as someone accidentally undid hours and hours of careful planning, is that it?" Slowly he pushed himself to his knees, glaring at her with both eyes now. "What exactly do you think, Olivia? That I resigned and suddenly forgot everything I ever learned after nineteen years on the job? Do you think I'm that stupid?"

Olivia stopped pacing and took a step back as Elliot stood carefully. "You were acting pretty stupid tonight," was all she said.

Elliot sighed and placed a protective hand over his crotch. "Look, I'm sorry if I screwed up your case. But I never expected to see you there, and certainly not...dressed like that." He swallowed thickly. "And I guess I got mad when you started rubbing yourself all over your little _partner_."

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Wanna explain why that is, El? Because you up and left SVU—left _me_—without a word. I didn't think you cared."

They stared at one another as her admission hung in the air. With each passing second, she regretted saying it more and more. Olivia racked her brain for some way to make light of it, to escape this awkward moment, but she couldn't think of a damn thing. Finally, Elliot came forward until he was right in front of her, only inches separating them.

"If I didn't care, would I do this?" he asked just before crushing his lips to hers. Caught by surprise, Olivia put her hands on his waist for balance. Elliot apparently took this as encouragement, because he tilted his head and plunged his tongue into her mouth. He tasted like whiskey. Olivia enjoyed the new sensations for a few moments but reality soon found its way back in.

Stepping away from him, she mumbled, "I guess—I guess you do care." She darted a glance at his face as she continued to back up. "I'm sorry I...thought you didn't." She was almost to the door. "But, Elliot—" One hand on the doorknob, "I think you still need to sober up."

She was out in the hallway and had the door locked before he even realized what she was doing. She listened through the door as Elliot banged his fists against it and begged her to let him out, but she didn't bother shouting a response. They still had a lot of issues to resolve and she couldn't hope to do the thing properly if he was still intoxicated. And her pride couldn't bear it if he'd only kissed her because the whiskey told him to. No, the best thing to do would be to forget that kiss—amazing as it was—for now, and come back in the morning to figure out where they would go from here.

And then, if he kissed her some more, she would know for certain that he meant it.

Smiling slightly as she headed up the stairs to her locker and a change of clothes, Olivia decided that if things worked out, maybe she would rough him up more often in the future.

* * *

**A/N: Well, so I seem to enjoy putting Olivia in skimpy clothes. I have a girl crush on her, so sue me. This is set some indeterminate time after the end of S12. I don't know who I have to beg for an Elliot/Olivia reunion in the eventual series finale of SVU, but if that person is perchance reading this story, allow me to say: **_**PLEASE MAKE THEM KISS. A LOT. THANKS.**_

**Sidenote, I've been having issues with the breakline bar, so forgive me if they're not showing up in the right places.**

**All good SVU things belong to Dick Wolf and NBC. **


End file.
